Our Shreds of Hope are Waning
by k-nesk
Summary: Sora and Riku are back on Destiny Islands, but they're finding it hard to slip back into their old life after everything they've been through. Oneshot, vague references of Sora/Riku.


He wears his red, red, crayola red shorts so low that they almost cling to his thighs rather than the bony hips that are jutting out just above the vibrant fabric, cutting smooth lines across tan skin. Riku stares at him, eyes ghosting over the curve of muscle that holds onto his arms, his legs, his chest, his everything, and he scowls at the sharp edges of bones that poke out at every angle and really shouldn't look so harsh, so visible. He absently wonders how everything had fallen apart, how their very reality had managed to slip through their fingers like the tide receding from the shore, leaving everything distorted and wrong. He dismisses those thoughts, though, and digs his feet into the too-hot sand, hissing at the peppery burn that slides against his toes. Sora is in the water, kicking around wet clumps of sand and shells, a smile tight against his teeth. He seems so happy, but it's so different than years past, when they would eat their sea salt ice cream and laugh at every wayward thought. Riku misses those days with a horrible, searing ache. He sits awake at night, wishing, pleading, begging any deity who will listen to bring back those days when they would compete for a bite of Kairi's paopu fruit, when they would push each other around but never dream of hurting one another.

Things are different now. They spar because they can, slamming the blunt ends of keyblades into each other, yelping at the bite of cold, hard metal on soft, warm skin. They yell and fight and bark out horrid insults that are never, ever called for because they don't know anything else. Once, they knew only civility and what school taught them. They were pleasant to each other. No more, though, not after everything they've done, after every life they took. They cant be civil anymore. They've been too horrible for too long.

Sora calls something out, padding over to Riku from the shore. Sand is caked on his feet, ankles, calves, peppered over his limbs like seasoning on a roast. Riku doesn't hear him, but doesn't bother asking for a reiteration. He doubts the unheard words hold much meaning.

"Ready to go in?" he asks, voice dull and gentle. He dusts the sand off his shorts with unnecessary roughness as he stands, unable to channel any tenderness to his calloused hands. Sora nods.

"I'm ready if you are. That water's colder than Hades, I swear, it was horrible! I think my toes are going to break off."

His grin is radiant, cracking the dry skin on his lips and stretching against his teeth. Riku offers a curt bark of laughter, but the noise is foreign in his mouth and sounds sardonic rather than sincere.

"I thought Hades was supposed to be hot. You know, hell fire, rivers of blood and lava, the whole nine yards," he says, the remnants of laughter playing at his lips.

Sora frowns, but his upset is feigned. "Didn't you ever go? It's all caves, cold and damp. I think I even got sick after my first visit."

"Well, color me surprised."

Riku revels in their easy conversation, in their pleasant tones and friendly lilts, in the kindness that touches both of their voices just like it would in the old days. It's been weeks - months maybe - since they last talked like this, their words comfortable and normal. It's wonderful and he tries to soak up as much of it as possible because he knows it will go awry soon. Their pleasant nights never last.

They're inside when it happens. Sora is readying to take a shower, sliding out of his damp shorts, but Riku stops him an calls absently, "You might want to wait a bit, I think I used all of the hot water."

Sora lets out a loose chuckle, and it's supposed to sound nonchalant when he says, "You always use all the hot water."

It isn't nonchalant, though. It can't be.

Riku frowns and his voice is chiding while he barks, "Well excuse me for taking hot showers every once in a while. I thought I deserved that luxury after a year of cold, wet, darkness." His voice is grating as the words slip out, getting harder, louder, angrier.

It's always like that; one harmless comment gets taken wrong and they just run with it, letting their volume, their pain, their everything escalate. No one stops to see how useless the fighting is. No one stops to see how childish it all is.

"You? Deserving a luxury? Riku, you weren't trapped in the darkness, you were rolling around in it like a dog in a pile of shit! You don't deserve any luxury after that!"

Sora is livid, his eyes burning a brilliant blue that looks so wrong on his boyish face. Riku scowls at him, anger mingling with hurt and frustration and sadness. They both hate this, they hate it so much it hurts.

"Sora, you were right there with me at the end. After Xemnas, after the big battle, you were right there. You would've stayed in the darkness with me and you know it." Riku's voice is quiet and fuming and his words are deliberate and bitter. Tears well in Sora's eyes and he stalks off to the bathroom, silencing their argument with the screaming water that flows from the shower head. Riku can hear angry, pained mewls echo around the bathroom, muffled but still audible where he stands in the kitchen.

He forces himself into the bedroom and strips, peeling his shorts off and replacing them with thin sleepwear. He settles into bed, hardly tired, and he waits for Sora. Things will be better when he's returned, after warm water has soothed his aching muscles and cleared his pulsing mind. Riku's thoughts wander to the darker corner of his mind while he waits and he worries endlessly about the things he's said, the things he's done, the things he knows are wrong. Eventually, Sora returns, legs bright from sunburn and protesting against movement as he shuffles across the room. He settles into bed, wearing a loose pair of shorts that Riku recognizes as his own.

"Want to watch a movie?"

Sora looks to his folded hands with tired and thoughtful eyes. After a bit of silence, he asks with a sullen voice, "Do you have any Disney movies from Earth?"

Riku pops in the Little Mermaid and Sora presses himself against his side, trying to soak in the warmth of Riku's skin as if through osmosis. His head rests heavily on Riku's chest and he presses an ear flat against the pounding heart beat. Low and soft, he murmurs about the time he went to Atlantis, when he met Ariel and sang in her performance. Riku's hand slides into mangled brown locks, stroking through them soothingly. He could live like this forever, laying in bed with the one person who's suffered through it all with him, the one person who will stand by his side despite how deliberately horrible he his. The shorts Sora wears are low on his hips and Riku smiles because even though the shorts are his and that's very new, Sora would always used to wear his shorts as low as he decently could. Memories of their days before the great adventure are typically painful at best, but this is nice. This quiet night is nice.


End file.
